Jamal was nervous and fidgety as he was led into the conference room. That would have been understandable, what with it being a location of a parole board session and his having spent the last 30 years in Prison. Would have been, had Jamal had any hope whatsoever of being granted a release via legitimate means.
No, Jamal was on edge due to an impending bid for freedom that was anything but legitimate. He looked around the room, sizing up the participants.
There were a pair of guards...a young, fit, reasonably handsome hone Latin-American kid whose muscled frame filled out his uniform well, and a mustachioed, older, hard-nosed looking character with a sizable beer gut.
Seated at the table in front of him sat the board representatives. A young, good-looking black man in a suit who Jamal didn't recognize. A pretty blond woman with a fuller figure who looked to be in her 40s, wearing a skirt-suit. And finally, the one person he DID recognize, the balding, elderly Judge Roderick Thurmond, the man who sent Jamal up the river all those years ago and had seen to it that he stayed behind bars ever since.
"Ahhh, Akers. Still a guest of the penal system I see." Thurmond grumbled.
"Thanks to you, "your honor," Jamal grumbled. He looked at the judge, staring daggers at him, before turning his attention to the woman. Jamal had been incarcerated for decades, and the sight of a lady was a welcome one. He couldn't help but lick his lips while looking her over. She was right up his alley, easy on the eye, and with just the right amount of meat on her bones. He would have loved a chance to get his hands on her curves. The long blond hair, her full figure, hell, even her boots turned him on!
https://babes.plus/sexpics/seducedbyacou...
The Judge, the young man, and the woman all looked over the paperwork before them. "Wow, he's been in for 30 years. All from an armed robbery conviction. Why so long?" the young black man inquired.
"If you read ahead, you'll get into the repeated escape attempts and multiple instances of his operating a prison black-market system." the blond woman answered.
"What can I say? I've never taken to being reigned in, and I'm a businessman at heart." Jamal chuckled as he looked the woman over, giving her a wink. She frowned, clearly disgusted.
"My first impression of you all those years ago was on the money, Akers. You're no damn good. I've done society a favor by making sure you've been kept away from it. I move that the prisoner's request for parole be denied, as he has shown no indication of having benefited from his incarceration or learned any lessons from it"
Jamal smiled. "I knew you'd deny me again, Thurmond. Thankfully, one of my fellow prisoners who owed me big for my services hooked me up with a different path to freedom. I could have used it at any time, but decided I wanted YOU to see me fly away, you twisted old bastard!"
Jamal could sense the guards moving towards him at the corners of his eyes, but he paid them no mind. He'd decided to target the young black man, thinking him the perfect candidate for his escape. He'd narrowed it down between him and the young guard but had finally decided that the young professional that was the same race as he would be ideal.
"What in the Hell are you up to, Akers?!?!" Thurmond recoiled in anger. The young man stood up, even as Jamal locked eyes with him, and began to mutter some sort of bizarre, rambling chant.
Each guard grabbed him on either side, but Jamal kept chanting, keeping his focus on the young black man.
Seeing that Jamal was staring at him, and feeling eerily uncomfortable under the old prisoner's gaze, the young man took a step back, tripping over his own feet as he tumbled backward onto the floor.
Jamal tried to step forward to keep his eyes on the man, but the guards had him in a firm grip. As the began to mutter the final lines of the chant he'd dutifully memorized, the booted, blonde bombshell rushed over to help the young black man back up, standing directly in Jamal's line of sight.
As Jamal recited the final words, a bright flash accompanied by a sulfurous eruption of green smoke enveloped him. The guards coughed and sputtered as their hands, formerly filled with Jamal's arms were suddenly empty!
Jamal's senses went wild! He felt incredibly out of sorts, dizzy, light, as if he weren't real anymore. He felt as if he were a wisp of air or a shadow. He yelped in surprise as he felt himself hurtled forward at tremendous speed. He rocketed from the spot he'd been standing in on a direct course towards the blonde woman now bent forward to help the young man up. He screamed as he felt himself push right into her. In the next instant, his awareness winked out as dark unconsciousness enveloped him.
When he began to come to, he groaned. "Shit man, my head is killing me..."
"Are you okay, Tanya?" he heard a voice ask him.
"Tanya?!?! What the fuck are you..." Looking down, Jamal's eyes went wide with horror even as his jaw dropped. He was no longer looking at his wiry, prison-jumpsuited old body. Now, he was looking down at the curvy, suited, and booted body of the blond female parole board member he'd been ogling mere moments before!!!
He could see, and feel, the canyon of cleavage directly below him. He could feel the cool, air-conditioned air of the room on creamy, skirt-exposed legs. "The bitch got in the way..." he whispered in restrained horror.
"What? Seriously, are you okay Tanya?" the young black man who had been his intended target was kneeling down beside him, holding his hand, a hand that had long red nails and a wedding ring on one of its fingers.
Quickly, Jamal did his best to recover and allay any potential suspicion. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, man. I'm good. Uh, what happened to that Akers guy?"
"We don't know. He vanished into thin air. Disappeared in a puff of smoke. The guards are conducting a search of the building."
Jamal allowed the young man to help him up, as he did his best to keep his balance on his stolen high-heeled boots. He teetered a bit as he struggled with his new, breast-and-hip-influenced center of gravity, but managed to stay upright. "I bet they don't find him. He's a smart one." Jamal couldn't help but smile. This wasn't the escape he had in mind, but it was apparently working.
"Yeah. The Judge is pissed. Seriously, are you okay? Should we have some paramedics look you over?" the young man still looked concerned.
"Nah, man. I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me. Jamal walked over to the table and found the woman's purse. Opening it, he found a small makeup compact. He pulled it out and looked at himself in the mirror. The reflection showed his black, middle-aged male head sitting atop the neck of the curvy white woman. The ritual had worked.
Pulling her wallet out, he opened it to see her driver's license. It said she was Mrs. Tanya Marie Randolph, a 45-year-old woman who was five foot ten and weighed 150 pounds. To Jamal's amazement, the chesty, white woman's body in the photograph had HIS smiling black male head firmly attached to its shoulders. Just as he'd been promised, reality had been altered by the spell. As far as everyone else was concerned, he was, and always had been, Tanya.
"I'm going to go see if they've found him." the young man exited the room, leaving Jamal alone. Jamal half-smiled as he looked down, and cupped his new breasts through his blouse and suit jacket. "Not what I had in mind, by a long shot, but I'll take it. Gotta make lemonade out of the lemons." Jamal continued to feel Tanya's tits "Of course these babies are more cantaloupe sized!" he laughed.
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